


Two out of Two

by sweetspiderstew



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bullying, Child Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Tony Stark, M/M, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25831513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetspiderstew/pseuds/sweetspiderstew
Summary: Tony just wants a break - he wants to be happy. But when are things ever nice in the Stark household?
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	Two out of Two

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Homophobia

Tony squeezes his eyes shut, hoping he could just disappear. The boy sat curled up at the corner of his room, his tear strained face resting on the school bag that he was itching to rip apart. If life was so insistent on ripping him apart, then he deserved to rip something apart too. But he honestly liked putting things together better.

“Anthony! Where the hell are you?”, Howard yells from somewhere in the house, his voice bouncing off the walls as if to mock Tony.

Tony wipes his face with his shirt, blinking rapidly for good measure, and gets up. He sucks in a breath before he opens the door of his safe haven slowly, apprehending what would be waiting for him now. He didn’t want to see his father right now, he didn’t want to see anyone today.

“Have you gone deaf, boy? Your father just called you!”, he hears his mother’s shrill voice laced with frustration, and sprints down the stairs.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbles, breathless, and ducks his head and stares at the floor, trying to blink away tears. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for now. He couldn’t remember anything he had done wrong, he’d tried to stay as obedient as possible – the absolute golden child – for the past three weeks ever since _that_ happened. He didn’t really want to think about it now. Today was already a bad day thanks to his classmates, and if he were stupid like his father tells him he is, he would have thought it couldn’t get any worse today.

“Stark men do not mumble!”, Howard booms, and Tony quickly glances up to Howard’s belt, which was fortunately still neatly in place.

“I’m sorry, Father. I’m sorry, Mom”, Tony says clearly this time, hoping they weren’t really that angry. He still doesn’t understand what he could have done. Howard got angry for no reason at all, but Maria? She would silently walk out when Howard was mad, but she rarely said anything to him herself. He prayed that one day she would say something - _anything -_ but this isn’t how he quite pictured it. She looks at Tony and then at her husband, shoulders dropping as she lets out a sigh.

“You deal with this”, she says to Howard, waving a hand in Tony’s general direction. Tony stares at her, eyes wide. He fucked up, didn’t he? _This_? Not _him_? What was he now, a _this_? And when has she ever dealt with _this_ anyway? Tony wanted to scream at her, and at himself for believing at least she loved him.

As she walked out of the room without sparing Tony a glance, Howard groaned and sat down on the pristine white couch.

“Get me a whiskey, boy”, he muttered, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Tony began nodding his head, and mentally slapped himself. _Words_ , he had to use words.

He shot a quick, “Yes, father!”, and sprinted to the bar. He tried to find a bottle that seemed like whiskey as fast as possible – he was only fourteen, he didn’t really know these that well – and rushed to hand it back to Howard, pouring him glass.

“Get the ice, Anthony! Need I tell you every goddamn thing?”, Howard yelled again, and Tony felt his heart clench. He was hoping he would calm down, and maybe just talk to him softly like the fathers in books and movies did. He knew that was stupid – he was going to college next year, for goodness’ sake. But he caught himself hoping. Again.

Tony remade the drink to satisfy his father, carefully putting the bottle farther away from Howard. It was fine glass, and those ones were the absolute worst.

“So tell me”, Howard began, taking a sip, “who is Joshua Rymann?”

Tony freezes for a second, before scrunching his eyebrows in confusion. “He’s a boy from my school, father.”

Howard took another slow sip – Tony knew the stormy patience was staged – and looked at him again. “You are even more stupid than I thought. Tell me, who is he?”

Tony bit his lip. He didn’t know what to say. What did Howard want him to say?

“He- He’s just a senior that plays for the Baseball Team, father. I don’t know much about him”

Howard throws the glass to the floor, inches away from Tony, and stands up. _No_ , Tony thinks. _No, please God, please. Not again, not again, not again._ He flinches when Howard is so close to him that he needs to tilt his head up to look at him.

“So why does he know a lot more about you, faggot?”, Howard whispers, his alcohol reeking breath making it harder for Tony to breathe than the situation already did. He unconsciously takes a small step backwards, and cries loudly as he steps on a broken shard of glass.

“Why are you crying now, Anthony?”, Howard hisses, grabbing Tony by his jaw and forcing him to tilt his head to the side.

Tony tries to shout, and feels his salty tears rolling down his cheeks. That was enough to push Howard to the edge. He throws Tony on to the floor and he lands ungracefully, his head banging the wooden floor. He quickly scrambles up, begging. “Please, dad. Please, please, please”.

“Why are you crying now?”, Howard roars, stepping forward heavily. Oh god, he was intoxicated. He had definitely had a couple drinks before. Tony shudders and begins scrambling back, only to be stopped by the wall, as Howard reaches for the bottle. “The only time you were supposed to cry was the day you were born!”

Tony wonders if his mother could hear his cries as the bottle was flung on to him, leaving him in a mess of alcohol, glass and blood. And tears.

“I wish you never cried that day. I wouldn’t have to suffer this much”, Howard continues, and pulls Tony up by his collar, shoving him into the wall.

“Father, I will be good-”, he starts, but Howard slaps him hard with the back of his hand, his stupid wedding ring accentuating the pain. “I’ll be good. I won’t do anything. I’ll be good”, Tony kept begging, but Howard kept slapping him. _Left cheek. Right cheek. Left cheek. Right cheek._

He wonders if his mother also thought the same. If she wishes he had died that day, fourteen years ago.

“Sickening! You’ll be the reason your mother and I would have to hide our faces!”

Tony falls down with a thud, and dazedly looks at the belt that Howard whipped out in the air. It was a beautiful sound, really. So swift. _Whoosh_. It reminded him of a tennis racket, the way it swung in the air when Jarvis taught him, except that he started hating tennis because of the sound. _Where was Jarvis today?_

Maybe she does wish he were dead, Tony thought again. His mother. He begins to chuckle, but whimpers suddenly as Howard’s boot turns him around, his legs buckling. That’s three people in the house that want him dead, then.

And then he feels the belt go _whip_ , and hears someone screaming their lungs out. _Was that mom?_

_Whip._

He realizes it was him screaming. That made a lot more sense.

_Whip._

He wishes Howard could have waited for another day to do this. He was sore enough from the morning, he probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Or the day after.

_Whip._

Howard was not supposed to find out, not that anything ever happens the way it was supposed to. Josh - Joshua - was a really popular kid. A jock. Yeah, yeah. It’s too cliché, but Tony fell for it anyway. Joshua, the popular jock, and Tony, the bullied nerd that has seen more lockers than classrooms. It was stupid. But Josh had never bullied him, and he never dated anyone, so when he came up to him one day and sweetly asked if he would go out with him, Tony blushed and stammered and finally nodded. He turned up to the carnival this evening to find the entire baseball team sitting there, laughing their asses off. It was a darn good joke after all, Tony supposed.

_Whip._

Tony cries out again, pressing his forehead to the cool wall, his fingers hurting from trying to dig into it. Sniffing, he adjusts his face to the side so his cheek was pressed to the wall instead. At least this way he could breathe better. Howard kept at it like a madman. Tony isn’t sure how many whips past the last record of twenty three this could have been – he wasn’t counting today, but it was definitely more.

_Whip, whip, whip._

He takes in the room, just to distract himself from the pain, and his eyes settled on the photograph framed at the corner. Tony choked on his sob, and started laughing hysterically. Captain America. There he was, that hero. Smiling that pretty smile. What an irony that the man that made him question his sexuality was watching him pay for it now. Well, not the man himself. But he belonged here. More than Tony did, definitely. Tony was probably six when he figured that out. The only picture of Tony in the house was in the family photograph in the Visitor’s Room, so for a boy that could understand circuit boards and transmission waves, it wasn’t that hard to understand.

_Whip._

Tony feels his body slipping, gliding down to the floor, and smiles to himself. The floor was always comfortable. This was his favorite part – passing out. He loved how everything always went black and the pain didn’t mean anything when he did. Better yet, Maria is usually nice to him if he passes out. _Ah well, that might be off the deal tonight._

_Whip._

A fuzzy warmth courses through him, and he feels the alcohol slosh near his face, and it tastes weird. Not sweet like he hoped, just weird. His eyes begin to feel heavy, and he wonders if Steve would want him alive. He probably would, if he was really that good of a guy. But he didn’t really know that. He smiles as he hears another whip – maybe if he was gone before Jarvis came home in a few hours, it would all be easy. He loved challenging problems, he loved the most complicated of technology. But he wanted easy now. He didn’t want to be strong.

 _It was three out of four anyway._ So he decides not to fight his body tonight.

* * *

Tony stared with wide eyes. This was nothing like he thought it would be, but he couldn’t admire the beauty of it all, all he could do was stare. And his mind worked on its own terms so he felt like his life was flashing in front of him.

_“Jarvis should have just left him there. What do we do with him now?”_

He felt like he was falling.

_“Anthony, I am sorry. Your parents died in a car crash last night”_

He realized the wormhole was closing.

_“Tones, it’s ‘kay. I got you. Next time you ride with me, okay?”_

Tony closes his eyes. He doesn’t think he wants this.

* * *

_“Tony? Tony! Wake up!"_

"Please wake up! Tony-”

Tony gasped, forcing his eyes open, and then shutting them immediately because everything was too bright and blurry.

“Please tell me nobody kissed me”, he rasped, and then forced his eyes open again. He tilted his cheek to the ground, which caused the gravel to poke his skin, but at least he could breathe and see better.

Steve was kneeling next to him. Captain America, with grime all over his face and his blonde hair matted from the cowl. His blue eyes eyes were sparkling, and he was smiling, shaking his head. This smile was different from the ones Tony had seen in photographs. He decided he liked this better. It was radiant and real.

“Man of Iron! I knew you would be well, mighty warrior. It was a great pleasure fighting side-by-side with you”, Thor boomed, kneeling by to clap him on his shoulder, and then walked away, asking Barton something.

Tony looked back at Steve, and smiled weakly at him. He didn’t really think he would make it today. “So I take it we won?”

Steve nodded and looked away. Tony tried getting up but the armour was weighing him down, so he sank back with a frustrated groan.

“Tony”, Steve whispered, his hand lingering on the arc reactor. “Don’t do that again, please”, he said quietly, and sighed, ducking his head.

Tony looked up at the sky, noticing how different New York looked from this angle. He felt so small again. And it felt so easy to just close his eyes now, and just let go. To disappear.

Tony glanced back at Steve, who had his eyes closed but was almost resting on the arc reactor now, and then at the ground. He realized, suddenly, that he didn’t find the floor comfortable anymore. _He hadn’t wanted to die._ Tony froze, his mind whirling. He didn’t want to pass out. He didn’t want it go black so the pain could numb away. He didn’t want to be weak, he didn’t want it easy. And _Steve did want him alive._ After all those years.

“So nobody kissed me?”

“That’s not how I would want our first kiss to go”, Steve mumbled and then turned crimson, realizing what he had just said out loud.

Oh _god_ , the _irony._ Tony laughed, throwing his head back and wincing, but he let out a loud, sweet laugh. God, it felt _so good_ to finally let it all out. To just _be._

“Well then, kiss me now, handsome”

Steve looked at him for five seconds before leaning over and cupping his face. He pecked him on the lips, shyly.

It was the shortest kiss he’d ever had, but it was probably the best.

But that wasn’t the best part. The best part was that now, it wasn’t one out of four that wanted him alive.

_It was two out of two._

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me how this is! I've revised this a bit too many times ahhhh


End file.
